


Reunion

by phodyl



Series: Wintersday Fic Week 2019 [7]
Category: Guild Wars 2 (Video Game)
Genre: Banter, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Polyamorous Character, Polyamory, Returning Home, Wintersday (Guild Wars), but no spoilers, set just before the start of lws5, teen rating for light cursing, that tends to be the case with most of my writing I guess lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-18 08:17:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21991087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phodyl/pseuds/phodyl
Summary: Toril finally gets back from her week in Hoelbrak. Braham missed his best friend, and Auslog missed her partner. They catch up.
Relationships: Braham Eirsson/Original Character(s), Player Character (Guild Wars)/Original Character(s)
Series: Wintersday Fic Week 2019 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1575952
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	Reunion

**Author's Note:**

> This is for day 7 of [tyrias-library's](https://tyrias-library.tumblr.com) Wintersday fic week! The prompt for today is time spent together. This references a couple different fics from earlier in the week, but the others don't actually make an appearance. I just really like writing these three idiots together.

“Do you think we should call her?” Braham asked, looking up at Auslog with worried eyes.

While Toril was away in Hoelbrak, the rest of Dragon’s Watch were keeping busy in their own ways. Taimi and Gorrik were still stationed out somewhere in the northern part of Ascalon, studying devourers and other local fauna that had proved...troublesome for the guild in the past, Kasmeer and Marjory were in Divinity’s Reach with their families for the holidays, and Caithe was off doing who knows what. That left Rox, Rytlock, Canach, Braham, and Auslog to maintain a small camp in the northeast of Frostgorge Sound, waiting for their leader’s return to continue their march toward the Blood Legion Homelands. Their leader who was scheduled to be back earlier that day, several hours ago.

At this moment, Auslog and Braham were sitting in their tent, cuddled together for warmth and for simple contact. His head rested against her stomach as she lounged back against a little nest of furs, reading a novel she’d picked up during their time in Sandswept Isles. Auslog held the book in one hand and played with his hair with the other, pausing when he spoke and closing the book around her finger to hold her place.

“Toril’s a big girl, Braham. She can take care of herself.”

“I know that, it’s just--I mean, she’s flying through the Shiverpeaks on a _dragon_ , shouldn’t we be a little concerned?”

“Concerned?” Auslog echoed, smiling teasingly. “Concerned about the Dragonslayer’s ability to manage a dragon?”

Braham smirked, rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I can’t help but worry about her sometimes, you know?” he explained. “I swear, I don’t know how you keep your composure about it.”

“Babe, I’ve known Toril for practically our entire lives. 20-some years now, I think.” Auslog shrugged. “There comes a time when you just accept that that woman is going to do whatever she wants, and she’ll come out okay on the other side. I mean shit, she died! And here she is, walking around like nothing ever happened. A ride through the Shiverpeaks won’t be the thing that does her in, believe me.”

“It’s a good thing I have you around to keep me level-headed then, I guess, because if it were solely my decision I would’ve sent out a search party two hours ago.”

Braham sat up and shifted awkwardly until he was on his knees between her legs, taking Auslog’s face in his hands and kissing her tenderly. She smiled against his mouth, folding over the corner of her page and setting the book aside to pull him closer.

Just then, a noise outside startled them apart, a sound like wind being forced out of place. A sound like the beating of wings. Braham and Auslog met eyes for a brief moment, smiling the same silly, excited smile before standing and clamoring out of the tent.

When they emerged, they were greeted by the vibrant blue of Saga’s wings as Toril carefully guided the skyscale to the ground. When she’d safely landed, she swung her legs off the creature’s back, dismounting with the ease afforded by constant practice and turning back to gently rub Saga’s snout. The dragon crooned at her, licking her face in a sloppy kiss before she could stop it. Toril scowled and wiped it away with the back of her hand as she turned to face the camp.

Braham and Auslog were on her before she could register what was happening. Braham wrapped her up in a tight grip, lifting her slightly and pressing her into a firm hug, then kissing Toril’s forehead and releasing her before she had a chance to react. Auslog grabbed her by the shoulder as soon as he had let her go, turning the Commander until the elementalist could grab her by the shirt and pull her into a kiss. 

“I missed you,” Auslog said quietly, resting her forehead against Toril’s.

“And you’re late!” Braham complained. “We were so worried!”

Toril pulled back and shot Auslog a glance.

“ _We_ were not worried, because _some_ of us actually know you’re capable of taking care of yourself.”

“Hey, traitor! Who’s side are you on?” Braham asked, resisting the urge to laugh. 

“Doesn’t matter,” Toril said. “I missed you too. I’m sorry for being late; Knut wanted to meet with me before I left to discuss the status of the Elder Dragons and see if there was anything we needed that the Great Lodge could help with. Set me back a couple hours.”

“Well, in that case, I guess I can let it slide,” Braham said with a smirk. “Now, let’s get into some of that ale. It’s a holiday!”

***

“So where are the others?” Toril asked as they settled into their tent, which felt much cozier now that it was again shared by all three of them. “I thought they’d be happy to see me, at least as far as it meant we could keep moving and get out of these damn mountains.”

“Out getting food,” Auslog explained. Toril came and sat beside her as she spoke, curling up against her side. “Canach and Rytlock are hunting game, and Rox is gathering some plants so we can put together a proper meal. Probably won’t be as good as whatever you were eating in Hoelbrak, but we’ll try our best.” 

Toril rolled her eyes. “You know I’m not picky. If anything, I miss camp gruel. It’s weird being indoors and comfortable and well-fed after so many years of sleeping rough.”

“I can understand that,” Braham said.

“How’s Erlend?” Auslog asked, smiling and wrapping an arm around the Commander’s shoulders. She snuggled in closer.

“He’s good,” Toril replied. “Still nowhere near accustomed to the cold in Hoelbrak, of course. I’ve never seen any other norn shiver like that.”

Auslog gave a little snort of laughter. “Oh well, just means you get to keep him warm.”

“That it does, my love. That it does.” Toril took Auslog’s hand from where it rested on her shoulder, kissed her knuckles. “I still hate that I wasn’t able to make it out to visit Solana though. Wintersday is so hard for her.”

“You can’t beat yourself up over that,” Braham said. “You sent her that gift, and she knows how this life goes. Jahai is days away, even with Saga.”

“I know she’ll understand,” Toril said, “but that doesn’t change the fact that I wish I could be there for her. I just hope that package finds her okay. Took a lot of coordinating to get it that far.”

“I’m sure it will,” Auslog assured her. “After all, no one would ever want to disappoint _the_ Toril Dragonslayer.”

“I really, really wish you would stop doing that,” Toril said, betrayed by her own laughter.

“Doing what?” Auslog asked, kissing her forehead and grinning. “Pointing out how lucky all of us are to have such a badass _deign_ to spend time with us?”

“I’m the lucky one,” Toril insisted. “Lucky you guys put up with me at all. It can’t be easy dealing with someone who faces down death like an idiot every other day.”

“Eh, it’s worth it,” Auslog said, sliding fingers beneath Toril’s shirt a bit to absentmindedly trace the scar that ran across her stomach, the scar left behind by Balthazar’s sword. Toril’s breath hitched at the touch. “And besides, I’m pretty confident you’ll find your way back to us.” Auslog leaned down, brushed the Commander’s lips with her own. “You always do.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed this fic! <3
> 
> If you like my writing, kudos and comments are always appreciated. 
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at [ineffablyadumbass,](https://ineffablyadumbass.tumblr.com) or on my gw2-specific blog [commander-passiflora](https://commander-passiflora.tumblr.com) where I post about updates and suchlike


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